


The Last of Us

by PeytonHale



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Force-Sensitive Padmé Amidala
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeytonHale/pseuds/PeytonHale
Summary: Padawan Naberrie disobeyed a direct order to join the fight against the Invasion of Naboo. That decision cost the lives of her sister and her master, as well as her place in the Jedi Order. But it also saves her and her unofficial apprentice the day Order 66 is carried out.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Kudos: 5





	The Last of Us

Padmé twisted the braid around her fingers and pulled it tight. She watched with morbid fascination as the blood beneath her skin drained away, leaving a sickly yellow where there should have been a blush of life. The spot where the braid had been ripped from her scalp still ached. Once it grew uncomfortable she released her fingers. Then started all over again.

The sound of the door opening stole her attention. All of a sudden she was looking straight into the eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her heart lept. For days, she'd felt almost nothing. Now it hit her all at once. The grief, guilt, rage, the hopelessness. The need to put it right despite that being impossible. And strongest of all, the longing for comfort. It all came rushing to the surface. She had to fight back tears. And she could sense through the Force that he was fighting, too. They rushed toward each other. Arms coiling and squeezing and holding on for dear life in what was honestly an uncomfortable hug. But letting go would hurt worse.

They stayed that way long enough for time to lose meaning. As they finally pulled away, their eyes met once again. His arms were still around her and his face was _so_ close to hers and her heart raced. Everywhere they were touching turned searing hot. She couldn't stand it before; now it was strangely pleasant. These moments had grown more frequent of late. And though they'd been so unwanted at first, it now seemed a shame not to act on this last chance.

Padmé could barely remember her life before Obi-Wan was in it. He was one year into his training when she left Naboo for Coruscant. And he'd always taken his seniority so seriously, watching over her and setting an example. So it came as no surprise when he regained composure first.

"So, you're Queen now?" The word seemed to catch in his throat.

"Ryoo is Queen but she's only four, she'll need a regent," she explained. "The Council - I mean the Royal Council is still deliberating but it seems likely to be me."

She couldn't begin to put into words how she felt about that. It was something she might have been raised for once. Under different circumstances. But how could the Council - anyone - trust her to lead their planet under _these_ circumstances? Much less to raise those girls. They'd still have their Queen and mother if not for her.

"I'm sure you'll make an excellent regent," Obi-Wan offered in that solemn tone he practiced for official Jedi business.

_What happened?_ she heard his thoughts. _Why didn't you wait for me?_

The Jedi Council held an inquest shortly after the so-called victory. It didn't take them long to assess the lengths to which she disobeyed and endangered her superiors. Obi-Wan was too kind to put her through that same wringer again. He had empathy, after all. He knew how to put other people before himself.

"I need you to take Pooja."

In all honesty, she needed to change the subject on their minds. But more than that, she knew he was fit to guide Pooja in ways she could never hope to be.

"Your other niece?" he frowned. "Has she been tested?"

Padmé let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I'd say so."

The look on his face told her he wasn't convinced. Though, it wasn't about Pooja's ability. He could hardly expect a Naberrie not to pass the test.

"Are you sure you want to separate them? Now may not be the best time."

"She _saw_ them, Obi-Wan. At the funeral. The ghosts of our family. She keeps asking when her mother will appear and I can't... How can I explain it to her? She leaves her bed at night to search the palace, she's giving Ryoo nightmares, and I can't let her keep looking for someone who's never coming back. I can't..."

"Padmé." Obi-Wan drew her back into his arms, lulling her over and over with the sound of her own name. She was trembling, she realized. And she let a few stray tears stain his robe. He stroked her hair, her back, her cheeks. He kept looking for the right way to touch her to ease the pain so now they were standing eye to eye again with her face in his hands. So close yet still so restrained she could scarcely feel the brush of his lips against hers. A kiss they could lie to themselves about later and say it never happened. Padmé ducked away first, pressing her forehead to his.

"Promise me, when the time comes you'll train her."

The memory was as clear now as the moment she lived it: the day the younglings of her class were lined up and assessed by the Jedi Knights in need of an apprentice. She could feel her palms sweating around the hilt of the practice saber. She'd never been so nervous in all her life. And by the end, she was sure she failed - another unfamiliar feeling. Master Kova was the last Jedi she expected to impress and looking back on it, she realized she didn't. He simply saw potential in her that he could nurture. What a grave mistake that turned out to be...

"I promise." His breath touched her lips, turning his promise into another soft kiss.

They pulled away completely and his eyes turned serious.

"On that note, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Oh?"

"The boy," he said. "The Council have refused to train him."

"That's hardly a surprise," Padmé nearly scoffed. The search for the Sith creature had led to nothing but an urchin aboard his ship. The boy was clearly an apprentice. A pupil of the dark side. Of course there was no place for him at the Temple.

"He has nowhere to go."

"He can't stay here."

"Padmé-"

"His master killed mine," she spat. "And my sister. How can you ask me to take him in?"

"Padmé, have compassion. You're still a Jedi in spirit."

She wanted to argue. More than that, she wanted to say no. Her childish side that she'd tried to suppress since the day she was initiated wanted to throw the braid in his face. To show him how obviously wrong he was. Deep down though, she knew he was right. And she wanted one last chance to make Kova proud. Still, Padmé couldn't quite bring herself to say yes so she merely nodded once.

"Thank you." Obi-Wan took two steps back - back into the role of Jedi - and bowed. "Your Highness."

A moment later and he was gone. She was alone once more. Utterly alone... uncertain what to do with herself. She stood staring at the door that closed behind him until her feet began carrying her to the window.

She untied her Padawan braid and scattered the strands to the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> Sola has been aged up and Obi-Wan aged down for this to work. He's fifteen here.


End file.
